


A Walk in the Park

by Lizzander



Series: Teddy Sheeran [1]
Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), Ed Sheeran - Fandom, Teddy Sheeran
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-30 13:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13953066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzander/pseuds/Lizzander
Summary: Random one shots about Ed Sheeran.The twins are full of energy and only ice cream could possibly calm them down.





	A Walk in the Park

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluff.  
> Enjoy!

They were walking on the other side of the street. The owner of the small coffee shop could just see them walking around the corner. He couldn’t recall seeing them before, he would have remembered that much orange. Although, on the other hand, he only saw them because he was sitting on the bench in front of his shop, absorbing the rare warmth of the watery winter sun, sipping hot chocolate from the cup in his hands (his favourite cup, the one none of his employees even dared to touch). This time a day, just after lunch, was always the quietest, which is why he had some time to actually enjoy his cup of hot chocolate for a change. He had bought this place a few years ago, he had been trying to buy it way before that. It wasn’t a big place, he had managed to make it look cosy, homey, even though it was on the outskirts of the city and there was not a single homey place in sight. Most of the buildings around here were high and grey and usually made of stone, metal, and glass. There were a lot of companies that had promoted him to their favourite coffee place, and that was not just because he was one of the only coffee places in the area, his coffee was of high standard, thank you very much. The park on the other side of the street did wonders for his sales; in summer he sold ice cream, in winter hot chocolate. The park, although surrounded by mountains of grey and glass, was a beautiful patch of green with cobblestone paths swirling between the trees and bushes. A small pond in the middle, filled with ducks that were spoiled rotten by the visitors. Flowers already started to grow, despite the single-digit temperatures. It peppered the playground, which was directly across from the coffee shop, with all kinds of different colours. A swing and a slide were the only attributes in the playground, overlooked by a large tree with a tree house. 

The owner watched as the family rounded the corner, immediately followed by two excited squeals and the sound of two pair of small feet racing towards the playground. A young woman, the owner assumed she was their mother, tried to tell them to be careful, but the boys were way too excited to listen. The man walking next to the woman grabbed her hand. He moved it to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles, her sun-kissed skin in great contrast with his pale white colour. Even from across the street the owner could see the man’s dopey, immensely content smile, matched by the woman’s eyes that were full of love. For a moment time stopped, them drowning in each other’s eyes. The little girl in the stroller began giggling, grabbing at her father’s hand, which, coincidentally, was placed within her reach. The girl was almost getting too big for the stroller, but she was more than content in her warm cocoon of blankets. The man, still with the dopey smile on his face, went to pick up the little girl, along with all the blankets. He carried her with one arm, pushing the stroller with the other while mumbling nothings to the bundle in his arm. He watched the woman hurry towards the two boys. 

The owner felt like he knew the man, or should know him at least. But not from meeting him before, more in the way that he had seen him on TV or something along those lines. The owner couldn’t put his finger on it. The man’s hair was bright red, it closely resembled a raging fire, which continued along his jaw and chin in a bright red, fuzzy beard. His skin pale as a white sheet of paper, almost like a vampire the owner thought involuntarily. Black rimmed glasses framed his face, hiding his blue eyes. He was wearing simple clothes; jeans, some sneakers, a winter coat, a scarf. The girl he was carrying couldn’t be older than a year and a half. She was now snuggled inside her father’s coat, the stroller parked next to the bench he was sitting on. He had opened his coat a little to keep his little girl warm, zipping her up inside of it. The girl looked in no way like him, unlike both boys who were like carbon copies of him. The girl had inherited more of her mother’s genes; the sun-kissed skin and the light brown hair, along with the small nose and the strong chin. The only thing she had in common with her father were her eyes, which were a bright, almost electric, kind of blue. The boys were the complete opposite. As they were twins, they looked much alike; they had their father’s pale skin, freckles, and red hair. Along with their mother’s brown eyes. The differences between them were few. If it wasn’t for one of them wearing glasses it would prove to be quite difficult not to mix them up. There were some other small differences, though. The boy with the glasses had a hint of green in his eyes and a hint of brown in his hair. The other boy, with chocolate brown eyes, was slightly more blond. Or rather a lighter shade of red, because their hair was still obviously red, just not as red as their father’s. 

The woman had given up any hope of the boys keeping their clothes clean. One of them already had grass stains all over his jeans, while the other had jumped in one of the puddles and now had splatters of mud all over his shoes and jeans. The woman shook her head, smiling to herself before making her way to the bench and taking place next to her husband. She said something to him, kissed his cheek, and placed a hand on the little girls back who was still snuggled up against her father’s warm chest. The man smiled while he looked around. He watched his boys climb around the tree house before his eyes landed on the person across the street. The owner quickly took a sip from his cup trying his very best to pretend he did not just stare at them, burning his lip in the process. The red-haired man waved at him, a short, small wave, but a wave nonetheless. The owner awkwardly waved back, a bit taken aback by the sudden contact. Nevertheless, the owner stood up and crossed the street, his cup still firmly in his hand. He usually didn’t leave his shop unsupervised, but this man drew him in, he had to know who he was. 

Approaching the bench the owner waved again, it was a small hand movement but the red-haired man answered it with a half smile.  
“Good day.” the owner said.  
“Hi” was the red-haired man’s response. “Nice day, innit?”  
“Indeed it is.” the owner said, continuing the small talk. His eyes wandered to the boys; one sitting on the swing, the other pushing his brother. Not able to handle the suspense the owner decided to just ask:  
“Could it be that I know you? You seem familiar.” The woman’s expression fell almost unnoticeably, the man just kept smiling, but it looked fake now, a bit forced.  
“You might,” he said, “depends on what music you listen to.” So he is a musician, the owner thought to himself. His eyes fell on a poster glued to the small trash can next to his shop. Pale face, red hair, blue eyes. ‘Ed Sheeran’, the poster said, ‘Now selling out Wembley again!’ That would explain a lot.  
“Ah yes, I see it now. I mean, I gave permission to put that poster there. I should know who’s on it, don’t I?” the owner pointed to the poster-clad trashcan. The red-haired man just continued to fake a smile and shrugged.  
“I’m sorry, you must get that all the time.” the owner apologised. “Must be boring by now.” The man, Ed, just rubbed his little girls back in an attempted to stifle the sniffles. She was getting cold.  
“I’m Oliver, by the way. I own the coffee shop across the street, if you feel like warming up a bit.” The owner started walking back, only to be stopped by Ed’s voice.  
“That’d be nice. I’ll have to convince the boys first, though.”  
“I’ve got ice cream as well, might that work?”  
“Ice cream? Cool. I think that might work.” Ed mumbled as he watched the man go. He kind of liked it that the man didn’t immediately know him, it was a rare thing to happen. He came here, to this small town on the west coast of Ireland, to find some peace and quiet. Which was not his smartest idea, given the fact he was very well known in Ireland. Long live his Irish roots. Not that he didn’t like being famous, on the contrary, he had been working way too hard for it. The only real problem he had with it was that him being famous also influenced his family; his wife, his four-year-old twin boys, and his one-year-old daughter. 

Speaking about his boys, the mention of ice cream might actually work in getting them to calm long enough for him and his wife to warm themselves on a cup of tea.  
“Hugo! Alan!” Ed tried to get his boys’ attention. He watched, smilingly, how both skidded to a halt and paused their game of chasing each other around the playground. They looked at him, impatient to get back to their game, but also wanting to hear what their father had to say.  
“A birdy told me that the coffee shop over there,” he paused shortly and pointed across the street, “has ice cream.” That was all he had to say, really.  
“Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!” the boys chanted. The red-haired man handed his daughter to his wife, knowing the boys would come charging to him, trying to tackle him in the process. Or rather, he would let the boys tackle him. Ed stood up from the bench, mainly to give his wife and daughter a bit of space and thus protect them from any accidentally flailing limbs. The woman smiled softly, knowing what was about to happen because she had seen it time and time again. She went to put the little girl back in the stroller. Ed watched them, if only to give the boys the idea he didn’t see them running towards him. 

He easily went down, the two boys barrelling into him at full speed. Hugo was sitting on his left arm and shoulder, trying to refrain him from breaking free or rolling over and standing up. His glasses slipping to the tip of his nose, forgotten and deemed unimportant in the battle against his father’s arm. Alan, being much more energetic, didn’t keep it at just an arm. Instead, he jumped right on his father’s chest, tickling his sides. Or trying to tickle his sides, because being a four year old he didn’t have enough strength or agility to actually, effectively, tickle someone. He was more or less just moving his small fingers along his father’s ribcage. Alan’s decision to jump on his father’s chest, however, left the man’s right arm completely free. He attacked the boy on his chest with his free hand, tickling his sides mercilessly and making him burst out into a fit of giggles.  
“No, daddy. Stop!” the boy squealed happily. Both his small hands locking around his father’s wrist.  
“You started it yourself, Alan.” Ed laughed. Nevertheless, he stopped tickling his son, indulging in his rule that ‘no means no’.  
“You alright?” he asked his son after he caught his breath. Alan nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but got cut off by his brothers' small voice.  
“Did you say ice cream, daddy?” Ed shifted his gaze from the boy on this chest to the bespectacled boy still pinning his left arm to the ground. Hugo pushed his glasses back up his nose when his father confirmed:  
“I did, indeed, say ice cream.”  
“Daddy?” Hugo sounded very innocent, which was never a good sign if you asked his parents. “If we let you go now, and let you win-” Ed couldn’t help but chuckle. Hugo was incredibly smart, and tended to use his brains in the evilest ways known to mankind while sounding like an innocent four-year-old. “-can we get ice cream?” Hugo finished, not completely able to hide a small, mischievous smile. Alan was nodding along vigorously, like always agreeing with everything his brother said.  
“Please, daddy?” he added to the argument. He placed his hands flat on his father’s chest, ready to get off as soon as his dad agreed.  
“Well, we would have to celebrate my victory, don’t we?” Ed said. Hugo was off his arm within seconds. Alan, needing half a second more to understand, jumped off as well as soon as he saw his brother move.  
“Ice cream?” he asked.  
“Ice cream.” his brother confirmed.  
“Ice cream, indeed.” their father mumbled while getting up from the cold ground and dusting off his jeans. He watched his boys hurry towards the street and raised his voice a bit to say:  
“Don’t cross the street!” He stopped talking suddenly. There was a hand on his butt. Or rather, ghosting over his butt.  
“There were some leaves sticking to your jeans.” A female voice behind him said. The woman smiled softly. A warmth spread through him, and he moved towards her, sneaking an arm around her waist. She closed the distance and her lips met his, if only for a short moment before being interrupted by two small voices. Waiting impatiently on the side of the street the boys said in unison:  
“Dad! Ice cream!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this!  
> Come and find me on Tumblr @its-me-lizzander


End file.
